


this is our multiverse

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Father/Son Incest, M/M, POV Second Person, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The (mostly) AUs drabble collection in which each chapter features a different pairing. </p><p>Chapter 4: Herc was just about to stand up to offer his seat for the young mother with the stroller when a solid weight landed in his lap. A solid weight that took the shape and form of his grown-ass younger brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chuck/Herc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RV wasn’t a choice as much as it was part of this cross-country road trip that Dad was set out on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt ridiculous as I wrote these but my god were they fun. Depending on the premise of the AU, a handful of these features unreleated!Hansens.
> 
> All prompts are from [this list on tumblr](http://nvclearsouls.tumblr.com/post/90608551960/just-another-really-long-aus-i-really-want-post).

 

1\. accidentally broke into ~~y~~ our apartment because i was drunk AU

 

Herc is barely awake when he hears the noise, a clinking of metal against metal, the sound of his lock rattling with force. He sits up, sheets still tangled at his ankles, one hand over his face and the other chasing the darkness for the light switch.

The yellow glow has him groaning, eyes barely opened against the sudden assault. The rattling doesn’t stop, rather, there is the heavy thump of a body hitting the wood with enough force to alarm him.

And then the front door swings open.

Only the familiar grunt and the sight of the line of that back stop Herc from grabbing the samurai sword on the wall. It is almost 3:00 AM and Herc is just annoyed that he doesn’t get to make use of the pretty thing Stacks got him as a gift some years back as self defense against some home intruder. Shaking his head, Herc just makes sure his front door is properly locked this time before heading back to bed with Chuck trailing at his heels.

The bed where Herc can smell him before the kid collapses on top of him in a mess of languid muscles and surprisingly coherent speech.

“Hey, dad.”

Chuck huffs out a soft breath as he kicks off his shoes and pushes his way further up on the bed. And if he isn’t completely hammered, Chuck wouldn’t be caught dead pushing closer when his dad smoothes a hand through the mess of his ginger hair.

“Did you know you just broke into your own place?”

“…Pretty sure, it’s under your name.”

Herc is rolling his eyes when Chuck settles in, murmuring something like _my bad_.

All said with a smile that Herc doesn’t see in the dark but can, very well, feel across his skin.

 

 

2\. accidentally found and read your diary AU

 

In retrospect, he’s been inside his head.

That’s got to be worse than getting caught red handed with what must be Chuck’s diary in his hands. But from the way the kid’s reacting, apparently it isn’t so. The slammed bathroom door is really indication enough.

Herc sighs, a deep, heavy thing as he puts down the diary and goes knocking. His knuckles against the metal doors make a sharp noise in their barren room. “Come on, Chuck. You can’t stay in there forever.”

The petulant _yes, I can!_ that comes through has Herc sighing a deeper, heavier thing.

“I’ve got your diary and Max with me.”

This time, Chuck doesn’t even correct him with a _it’s a journal!_

(When Chuck comes out, almost four hours later, he finds the old man lying on his bunk, Max stretched out comfortably at his side, his journal faced down over Herc’s chest. Chuck's mouth curls in annoyance, not so much anger anymore when he takes the book from underneath Herc’s hand. And underneath today’s date, there is a single entry not in his own handwriting but the old man’s, chicken scratch that they both resemble.

_Don’t need to read this to know exactly what you’re thinking, son._

Chuck doesn’t doubt it, he also doesn’t doubt that this is how Herc apologizes for intruding on the shreds of privacy they’ve both got left.)

 

 

3\. we actually can’t stand each other ~~but for some reason we talk everyday AU~~

 

With them, it has always been a little like this.

Gears grinding like a well-oiled machine when it comes to a fight and something short of tearing into the other when it comes to anything that isn’t one. The Hansens can’t stand each other, and every Shatterdome they’ve been through _knows_ this.

Some calls it the effects of drifting and they are not entirely wrong.

When Herc sits down in the mess hall for any meal of the day, Chuck will already be there, sitting opposite to his father, feeding scraps to Max. And when Chuck heads to the Kwoon for a spar, there is Herc already on the mats, stripped down to a tank and a pair of PPDC-issued sweatpants with two hanbō in hand.

They don’t always talk.

Hell, they hardly talk.

But what they have is theirs alone, and this, the war hasn’t taken from them yet.

 

 

4\. cross-country road trip ~~gone wrong~~ AU

 

The RV wasn’t a choice as much as it was part of this cross-country road trip that Dad was set out on. The keys on a ring being spun around a finger the day Herc came home and declared that they were hitting the road.

Chuck didn’t understand, didn’t try to.

At the end of the long dusty road, miles and miles from where they’ve settled after the war, Chuck was still sitting next to the old man as the wheels went ‘round and ‘round. And that was always going to count for more than any words he could come up with. It had to, now that they were left without the drift, stranded on solid ground with nothing to take hold but the places hollowed out in the shape of one another.

With Max sitting in his lap and the map folded open and propped up against the headboard, Chuck could imagine what spurred the old man into doing this.

This was to reclaim what was lost during those years.

The outback was exactly as Herc remembered, exactly as Chuck’s seen through the drift with a man that still knew a world before the war. Where it wasn’t always just the impact of a Kaiju’s blows hitting too close to home, or Kaiju blue in the aftermath of every fight.

With this, it was just quite the sight to see the far stretches of the land and the way it would make the old man’s mouth tilt.

 

 

5\. met on a cruise ship AU

 

The air smells of salt, the sun too bright, and his genes too ginger to take more of this.

He is lying back in a recliner on one of the upper decks of the ship, away from the outdoor pool and the screaming children. There’s the quiet and for a moment, Chuck likes the feeling of being all alone in the world even when he’s stranded at sea with hundreds of other people. For a second, he is not wondering why he ever said yes to Mako’s invitation of joining her and _Rah_ leigh on this trip.

“Mind if I…”

Chuck sits up with a scowl, shades sliding down the bridge of his nose at the sudden interruption--and well, the man he turns to is rather easy on the eyes.

He is dripping water on the deck, a cigarette held between two fingers as a mean to ask that unfinished question. His hair is just short enough not to flop against his head as he stands there in a pair of swimming trunks that’s barely hanging on to his hips, wet and glistening like he’s got any right to interrupt Chuck’s daydream looking like a wet dream.

Traitor that he is, Max just barks his assent and stumbles towards the man, eager for belly rubs as he flops over, panting as he waits.

“Yours?”

“Dog’s Max,” The low, gruffy _hey, boy_ murmured decidedly goes straight to Chuck's cock when the man easily tucks his smoke behind his ear and drops down to one knee at the foot of the reclining chair, his large hands already buried in the dog’s fur. “Mine’s Chuck.”

“Herc.”

When he grins, Chuck is just glad that he's accepted Mako's invitation without question. And when he shakes his hand, he is deliberately not thinking how it'd feel to have those same hands work sun tan lotion across his skin. 

 

  

6\. we rob places together as a couple and get away with it AU

 

The first shot goes to the ceiling, the second to the bulletproof glass that has it cracking against the wide expanse like a spider’s web.

It’s not a small job, it never is.

But then there were you.

(And that _you_ was in the plural form because there is never one without the other when it comes to Striker and his Eureka.)

You are neither ruthless nor cruel, but what you are, you are good. The third shot doesn’t need to be fired unless someone makes the wrong move that has you pointing your sawed off shotgun at their hearts beating out of their chest. You work that fear tactic just so and he is quick as he is perfect in your bed.

You get away with it, duffel bags full of cash, all the trackers dropped in a trashcan down the street, dye packs opposite from where you have the getaway car parked.

And by the time the two of you are tearing down the street, dust and adrenaline in your wake, the sirens are only just beginning to sound.

 

 

7\. ~~i’m~~ pregnant ~~but it’s not yours~~ AU

 

“What are those?”

“Max’s sprogs.”

“What?”

“Surprise, dad.” Chuck says, holding up one of those tiny, furry things in both hands with a gleeful grin, looking too much like that first time Max pissed on Herc’s shoes. “Turns out Max wasn’t eating too much, boy was pregnant.”

“ _What_?”

 

 

8\. stuck in a horrible zombie apocalypse AU

 

He is quick to wipe away the blood from his face when he brings his machete down, has the has-been’s head rolling from the rest of it’s body. And this is what they called them now, nothing like the word _zombie_ because that somehow felt like a joke belonging on the television still.

Yet, the groan the has-been managed to let out has him flinching in reflex.

When the pipe comes down, crushes the head and the brain within into a mess of rotten blood and decay, Chuck lets out a breath and sinks back into the hand that touches the back of his neck. Neither one of them is new to killing, not now, not when it’s been months since the fourth wave hits Sydney but it doesn’t make it any harder.

“You right?”

Herc doesn’t draw back, just notes the specks of blood and the way the boy’s grip is a white knuckled one. And if he is a sentimental man, he might have dragged his kid into his arms, kissed the top of his head like when he was an anklebiter and never let go. He settles for grazing his thumb across the sweat-salted skin and leaves it at that for reassurance. When Chuck gives him a nod, Herc lowers his hand to the small of Chuck’s back and says.

“Come on, let’s get out of here then.”

The _you did good_ goes unsaid but so does the _thanks, dad_.

 

 

9\. we fucked once and somehow keep bumping into each other AU

 

It is the coffee shop first (him with his medium latte no sugar and him with his black coffee one sugar), and then the deli down the street (him halfway finished with his roasted turkey sanga and him waiting in line to make his order).

Before the grocery store (him standing in front of the broccolis and him making his way towards the milk section), it is the corner right in front of his place (him walking back from the gym and him about to cross the street).

The two of them resolutely do not make it a thing.

But when he is at the public library and there the man is, the one night stand that really should have been nothing more than just one good night instead of a good looking ghost in his peripheral vision everywhere he goes. With him standing by the checkout counter with two novels in hand, Chuck assumes this is fate trying to tell them both something.

That or it loves a joke like this one.

“Chuck, right?”

He nods, and he is glad that it’s the other man who starts the conversation because if it had been him, he might have gone with something like _you read?_

“And you’re Mack?”

“…Actually, it’s Herc.”

“You gave me a _fake_ name.”

The uneasy smile give way to a shrug, “Easier to explain than Hercules.”

After that, it’s just a little hard if the two of them don’t end up making this a thing.

 

 

10\. best friends when we were young and then you moved and now we meet again at college AU

 

When he stumbled into his 8:30 AM lecture hall, he found a seat and he sat in it. His coffee cradled gingerly in one hand as the tiny plastic chairs dug uncomfortably at his back. He was barely awake and the professor was dimming the lights just before he dragged out the overhead projector from the corner. And Chuck wants to let out a groan because who the fuck still used overhead projectors in this day and age.

Even though this was nobody’s fault but his own, thinking that three hours of sleep would be better than none, and before that, believing that beating the last boss would be worth all this.

“…Charlie?”

He couldn’t do mental math this early in the morning but it didn’t require math to know that it was a long time since he had heard _that_ nickname in _that_ voice. Chuck turned his head slowly, and there was Hercules Hansen sitting next to him in first year chemistry like he belonged.

With his courseware opened on the small table and his knees pressing into the back of the chair in the row in front of them, Herc grinned as he said, “Elective,” like that was what Chuck was fixated on. And not the fact that he was seeing his childhood best friend for the first time after years.

“Fuck me.”

If Chuck was less eloquent than his usual self, he blamed it on his surprise.

And if the _gladly_ Herc would murmur after class had Chuck coming out of the room flushed and scowling, well, there was really only one man to be blamed for that.

 

XXX Kuro


	2. Raleigh/Yancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh explains just exactly how the two of them met one another. And if this true story can basically be summarized into _I was horny and found him on Grindr_ , well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on the premise of the AU, a handful of these features unrelated!Beckets. All prompts are from [this list on tumblr](http://ucanhavemysoup.tumblr.com/post/92369302502/aerynlallaboso-reached-for-the-last-snack-item).

 

1\. reached for the last snack item at the same time au

 

Sitting on their couch with his legs crossed, Raleigh has the bag in his lap and his drink resting against one knee. With the room dimmed and the movie casting light over them, the crunch of potato chips is a little distracting when it comes to French films the Beckets are only watching to pay homage to their mother’s side.

And it’s not that Yancy doesn’t love the language, he does. He loves the way each syllable curves off of the tip of the tongue, Raleigh’s tongue to be specific when it is just the two of them in bed, sheets on the ground, pillows pushed underneath his hips for an easier angle.

But it’s close to two in the morning and he doesn’t understand how Raleigh looks as though he’s just woken up from an afternoon nap.

“We can’t watch something that’s a little less,” he makes a motion with the potato chip in hand, and continues, “I don’t know, boring?”

Raleigh huffs out a soft breath, the crunch of the chip loud between his teeth. “This is not boring, it’s a classic.”

Yancy doesn’t hide the roll of his eyes, just reaches in for another chip just as Rals does. Their hands bump as they see who finds the last one first. And really, it isn’t a win for Yancy until he sees Raleigh looking at him as he sucks the salt from his fingertips, ignoring the French film still playing on the television screen entirely.

 

 

2\. accidentally ‘borrowed’ their towel ~~at their gym~~ au

 

When Raleigh comes up to him in his birthday suit, arms crossed over his chest, water from the showers still dripping off of him, Yancy should probably learn to look away.

But he’s just been in his head for a better part of six hours and modesty doesn’t really come close to what this is. Reliving childhood memories through the other’s eyes even when time doesn’t pass by quite the same in their drift sequences, it leaves them closer than any pair of brothers ought to be.

And when he finally does, he notices that Raleigh is looking at the towel in his hands, the extra one that isn’t wrapped around his waist. Yancy doesn’t bother with looking sheepish. “My bad?”

Raleigh rolls his eyes and takes the offered towel, drying himself as he turns to his own locker for a shirt, “It would be more convincing if you weren’t staring at my ass, y’know.”

“Could you blame me though, kiddo?”

Yancy’s grin is wiped clean off his face with a yelp when Raleigh turns around, reaches out to yank the towel off of Yancy’s waist, knot undoing itself easily. And with it in hand, Raleigh smacks him across his ass with a well-aimed flick of his wrist.

 

 

3\. saw their number graffitied on a toilet stall au

 

You don’t recognize the number but that name is hard to forget.

After all, you’ve got him on speed dial.

Fumbling a little, not quite drunk but ways there, you pull out your phone and you call him because you can. Because you miss him even though you have just ran an entire day of Conn-Pod sim with him.

“I’m looking at your number right now.”

“Rals?”

“Guess which Jaeger fly bar I’m in.”

“Is _that_ where Tendo took you?”

“Mmhmm… and somehow, your number is graffitied on the stall I’m in.” You tell him, glancing around the narrow space, dirty tiles beneath your shoes, your brother’s name and number scrawled on the wall in Sharpie marker. “Should I be concerned?”

“I’d blame Tendo for that.”

“A bet?”

“You’d bet, Rals.” He laughs and you feel punch drunk in ways that have nothing to do with the alcohol that is running drier and drier in your veins, all that’s left is that feeling of bubbles, like champagne on the tip of your tongue. And it's like he knows exactly how you feel because he asks this next.

"Come home."

You don't hesitate.

 

 

4\. "which asshole hasn’t returned the dvd i want yet" au

 

Yancy loves and hates the public library for plenty of reasons. First and foremost, it is the asshole that still hasn’t returned that DVD he’s been waiting for since last week. And Yancy sincerely believes that there is a special kind of hell for people like that.

He doesn’t imagine that this is the asshole though, the one standing next to the self check-in station, looking like an all American golden boy. All except the way he is holding that foreign French DVD that Yancy has been itching to watch.

“You’re returning?”

“I am…” The man glancing up seems taken back with how determined Yancy must’ve looked because he swallows thickly and murmurs an excuse of some sort. “Kind of.”

Yancy narrows his eyes, not backing away.

“Assignment.” The man supplies, finally. With one hand still holding the DVD and the other running his library card barcode under the machine, Yancy watches at the stranger checks the DVD out before checking it back into his account.

“What.” He blinks because while that’s certainly _one_ way to get around the time restrictions, Yancy’s never actually seen someone do that.

“I need the movie for an assignment.” He explains, sheepish grin in place, holding up two other film books from his stack of library finds.

Yancy doesn’t know why he wants to take him home, textbooks and all.

 

 

5\. mail keeps coming to the wrong address au

 

“I take it you’re Yancy?”

He asks when the door opens and standing there is a man in a grey t-shirt and a pair of shorts to match. He still looks half-asleep, pillow creases on one side of his face, and Raleigh should not want to push him to the ground with a hand fisting the front of that shirt right here, right now.

The slow blink of his eyes as he rubs a hand down his face has Raleigh holding out a small stack of mail. The dawning realization comes, and when it does, the other man just points at him and asks, “Raleigh _Becket_?”

“Spelled with one ‘t’ just like yours.” Raleigh nods, letting out a soft laugh as Yancy pulls out a few envelopes from somewhere behind the door, grin on his face. “You would think the mailman could tell one Becket from the other.”

Yancy shrugs, grin still fixed as he looks at his downstairs neighbour. “Well, I know one way we can fix this.”

“If you suggest we move in together, I’d just like to say I’m a drinks first kind of guy.” Raleigh doesn’t bite his tongue, just tucks the envelopes into his back pocket and continues as he scratches the back of his neck with one hand. “Y’know, to test the waters a bit, get to know each other, check for compatibility.”

Yancy laughs, every trace of sleep gone, and tells him, “I can do that.”

 

 

6\. "you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right" au

 

The song is some kind of Tokyo pop and Yancy really wouldn’t be so opposed to it if Raleigh weren’t singing the lyrics, word for word, in a voice that really ought to belong in the shower.

Or maybe a sound proof room, Yancy isn’t picky.

He drops down on the couch and swings both legs up, puts his feet into Raleigh’s lap and watches as the kid startles.

“You’re singing.” He tells him, and waits for Raleigh to register that. It takes a long moment.

“Did you want me to stop?”

Yancy really ought to say yes to that but with the way Rals is looking at him, headphones still on his head, his hair a mess from sleep, Yancy just blinks slowly before shaking his head. “Go wild, kiddo.”

As sappy as this sounds, the smile Raleigh gives him is worth every bad song though.

 

 

7\. beat the crap out of each other in online multiplayer au

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, do _not_ kill me now.”

“Don’t be a sore los—fucking _hell_ , Raleigh, what the fuck was that?!”

Raleigh’s smirk is evident even though Yancy has never seen his face before. But this voice, well, Yancy has it memorized. Even now, he can imagine it well enough as his character is beaten within an inch of his life.

“Were you sayin’ something, _Yance_?”

 

 

8\. ~~"i think your~~ dog ~~likes my dog"~~ au (inspired by [sleepy-doge's art](http://sleepy-doge.tumblr.com/post/89319974702))

 

People always think it runs in the family.

But it doesn’t, of all the Beckets, only Raleigh shifts. The first time, Yancy stares and doesn’t know how to look away until Raleigh is nearly sitting on top of him. Even then, his eyes are wide as he looks at his brother like this is the first time he’s seen him.

The kid’s got doggy ears flat against his head, eyes just as wide like he expects Yancy to explain to him what this is, like Yancy would know anything more than the fact that Rals is a shifter.

And isn’t that a surprise?

Now though, Raleigh is much bigger than that first time, muscles bracing him down on their bunk.

It’s different, but not so much because Yancy still has a hard time looking away, especially when Rals’ tail is the same colour as his hair, wagging restlessly in the air as he pushes closer for more. His mouth falls open and he doesn’t ask in words, just pleads with his tongue swiping slow across his bottom lip.

One hand is touching Yancy’s chest, the other holding out what appears to be—

Yancy raises an eyebrow, plasters on nonchalance like he hasn’t thought about it in the wildest dreams, “You’re sure, kiddo?”

And when Raleigh nods, Yancy bites back a grin and takes the collar from his brother.

“Come on then, lean back for me, little bro."

The only complaint he gets is a grumble of _not little, Yance_ that turns into a choked off groan when Yancy fits the collar around Raleigh’s throat. The clink of the metal clip as he secures the leash to the collar has Raleigh biting his lip, and the tug Yancy gives to the long length of the leash he’s got wrapped around one hand leaves Raleigh biting back that gasp of _Yance_ that has his heart feeling like it’s a few sizes too big for his chest.

 

 

9\. kissed them as a distraction ~~while stealing their wallet~~ au

 

Every pair of Jaeger pilots is a little different from the next but with every simulation, every test drive, every actual fight against the hurricanes rising from the depths of the ocean, there is one thing that remains the same.

And it is that time between disconnecting from the drift entirely to that moment of being completely alone in your head. It’s a jarring experience every time.

The break doesn’t feel so much like relief as it is reluctance. Having been split wide open for another human being for so long and so deep, there is the will to hold on and not let go. The co-dependence doesn’t escape any Jaeger pilots; they just develop something of a habit, instincts really, to handle it.

And it is in the dark of the Conn-Pod when they both disengage from the rigs that Yancy reaches out for Raleigh. His hands are a little sweaty, moving on an accord of their own, their helmets barely pushed back and off as he kisses him.

He stinks of sweat and blood from where the Kaiju hits a little too close to home (but isn’t that every hit). He reeks of what they call the post drift blues.

It is clumsy, and just short of desperate.

It is also perfect every fucking time when Raleigh tilts his head and deepens it just that much more.

 

 

10\. "I was horny and found him on grindr" AU

 

Yancy never tries to explain how they met.

While it is not quite the best one out there, it is still quite the story to be told.

With Yeye Jr. screaming his tiny little lungs out in the next room, Yancy is sitting at Tendo’s dinner table, knocking down the last sip of his beer. Raleigh is right next to him, their hands locked and resting on the table top, matching silver bands around their ring fingers.

They are not so sappy as to look to one another in the eyes as Raleigh explains just exactly how the two of them met one another. And if this true story can basically be summarized into _I was horny and found him on Grindr_ , well, Tendo can only shake his head at his two oldest friends.

Listening in as she handles Yeye Jr. with both hands and quite possibly a leg, Alison doesn’t even try to bite back a sharp laugh. Her shout carries from the other room, “You two deserve each other!”

The widening grins spreading across the Beckets’ faces match to a tee.

 

XXX Kuro


	3. Herc/Stacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stacker makes the decision of moving in with Herc, he expects there to be bumps along the way. What he does not anticipate is the carpeted pink apartment stairs leading up to the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been notified by Atom that these prompts are as Nightvale as they get (not that I would know, I never listened to it before because I have the attention span of a goldfish). 
> 
> All prompts taken from [this tumblr post](http://killuangel.tumblr.com/post/92851820110/here-have-some-shitty-abstract-writing-prompts), sadly surrealism is harder than one would think so have 5 instead of the usual 10.
> 
> PS: Happy K-Day! :D

 

1\. hospital where it’s ~~always~~ 1:02 am

 

He’s in his scrubs and the clock on the wall reads exactly two minutes pass one o’clock.

He doesn’t look down, and away, just ignores the slick feeling of latex across his skin.

“How are you holding up, Hansen?”

Herc turns around, lines around his eyes, looking beaten but not down. The man standing next to the empty nurse’s station has a clipboard in hand, white lab coat and a hint of a smile reserved just for him.

“I’ll live.”

And to anyone else, the sight of the doctor nodding as a reply might feel a little more condescending than not. But Hercules Hansen just rests easily against the nurse’s station, looking at Dr. Pentecost as he finishes the referral report, waits until he is looking at him to grin.

“Good, shift’s over in thirty. Meet you at the car?”

Stacker puts the clipboard back where it belongs, takes the chance to lean closer to the other man and says with a promise.

“Thirty, Herc.”

 

 

2\. you left your car keys in the gap between dimensions again

 

He is holding them up.

The jangle of his house keys hitting his car keys in Stacker’s hands, and Herc would look sheepish if this doesn’t happens at least once a week. At least this time, not that the sprog lets him forget it, he hasn’t lost Chuck somewhere between the here and the there, and then somewhere back again.

Herc takes it from him, and their hands tangle. Like the knot that forms, time and time again even as he leaves him, then comes back for him like he’s home to every road walked, every dimension passed.

“I’m beginning to think you forget them on purpose.”

Herc shakes his head with a grin, the metal cutting into his palms and he wishes the knot would undo itself around his heart. “Keeps you guessing, I’d hoped.”

Stacker just looks a lot like that first time Herc’s met him, expression bordering on the unbelievable as he steps out of the throat of another interdimenional portal with the sprog in his arms.

“Keeps me waiting, really.”

 

 

3\. this traffic light has a switch on it somewhere and if you press it someone you hate dies but you can only do it three times

 

You use it on Trespasser first. Hundun in Manila second.

Kaiceph in Cabo third, thinking, of all the cities along the Pacific Rim, it can’t be Sydney next.

Then Scissure hits.

 

 

4\. the story of a set of carpeted pink apartment stairs

 

When Stacker makes the decision of moving in with Herc, he expects there to be bumps along the way. It comes with the close quarters even after knowing the other man for what might’ve been more than half his life. That it is expected. What he does not anticipate is the carpeted pink apartment stairs leading up to the front door.

Stacker never really notices, not that first time when he’s walked up these stairs, worn bubblegum pink beneath his shoes, cufflinks looking far more comfortable at his wrists than it actually felt. Ringing the doorbell and having it open to reveal Herc still in a threadbare t-shirt and a pair of briefs.

“You’re early.”

“And you’re in your underwear.”

But he gives him a kiss on the mouth nonetheless, lips a different kind of pink that goes white with the way his teeth bites down on it. Pulling back, Herc just grins, looking like that Aussie bastard that nearly broke his nose the first time they went out drinking.

“I thought the Brits called these pants.”

Stacker rolls his eyes but he doesn’t look away when Herc efficiently strips out of his clothes and into something more date-appropriate, not that either of them knows much of what that means. Having seen each other at their worst, it feels a little trivial to call this their first date when they’ve had their lives revolving around one another for so long.

In theory, making this official wouldn’t have changed much.

“You’re not kissing me here.”

The stress is placed on that last word, muttered with warning as he glares at the ugly pink at their feet. Herc’s reply is easy, knowing, when he simply shrugs, one of Stacker’s boxes in his arms and continues up the stairs towards their apartment.

“Your loss.”

This time the stress is placed on _theirs_.

 

 

5\. baseball bat w/ nails through it found buried under a church

 

When you arrive at the crime scene, it is raining and the soil is soft beneath your shoes. You’re careful where you step, holding out your badge at the officer standing at the perimeter before you duck beneath the yellow tape. And it’s a well-worn practice at this point, having been at it for years too long.

You don’t just look to the other man, already there, standing still by the fresh cut grass, wet earth, and the overwhelming stench of decay lingering in the air. You sweep your eyes across the field, the church torn down halfway, construction crew still milling about, ready with their statements to be put on record.

“Stacks.”

“Herc.”

You greet him with a thin trace of a smile on your mouth because if you’ve learned one thing while working next to Stacker Pentecost, it’s that missing kids and murders have a way of getting under the skin. And it works like a bruise you press harder and harder on.

“Doesn’t look too good,” you say.

“Baseball bat with nails right through it, blood and hair all over it.”

“Buried beneath holy ground.” And you shake your head, chuckle tasting like ash in your throat only because it doesn’t get worse than this.

But the world likes to prove you wrong, and Stacker knows this too.

“Won’t be long before we find the body then.”

 

XXX Kuro


	4. Herc/Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc was just about to stand up to offer his seat for the young mother with the stroller when a solid weight landed in his lap. A solid weight that took the shape and form of his grown-ass younger brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm still spiraling head first into my Herc/Scott phase, have some ridiculous AUs. All prompts are from [tumblr](http://textsfromtitanfood.tumblr.com/post/96672784247/consider-the-following-aus-we-wore-matching).

 

 1. "we’re the only ones who didn’t get the email about class being canceled" au

 

The lecture hall is empty, in ways it shouldn’t. Herc lifts his head from the desk when he hears footsteps coming down, he sees him and he looks like bad news, the kind of boys parents warn their children about.

“The one time I come early.” He says, out loud, and it echoes in the room where there’s only empty chairs and long desks.

“It’s 10 minutes after class should’ve started.” Herc tells him when the guy just rubs a hand across his face, looking like he’s had too much last night or not enough this morning.

“Like I said,” He pauses to flash Herc a grin, “The one time I come early.”

Herc doesn’t even bother with rolling his eyes at that. What he expects is the other to turn around and go, what he doesn’t is exactly what the other does though when he drops down in the chair right next to Herc.

“Prof is sick, class is cancelled.” Herc explains, but the guy doesn’t move. Just props an elbow up on the desk and rests a cheek on his hand, looking up at Herc as he asks. “Then why are _you_ still waitin’ around?”

“My next class is here as well.”

“Scott.” He offers, holding out a hand that Herc takes, after a beat, not quite understanding why this warrants an introduction. Only social convention has him giving out his own in return. “… Herc.”

“Is that short for something?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me.”

Herc shakes his head, and Scott’s grin just splits across his face, all teeth and dare, and there’s nothing sweet about this even when he stays the whole hour before Herc’s next class.

“I quite like a mystery myself, _Herc_.”

 

 

2\. "we both got in separate bar fights downtown and now we’re waiting in the ER comparing stories" au

 

There’s a nasty cut on his forehead that’s still gushing blood but it’s not much compared to the uncomfortable plastic chair digging against his back. The man that sits down next to him has hands that are torn and bruised and bloodied at the knuckles. Scott doesn’t need a second glance to recognize someone in the same boat as him. He nods at the man’s hands, knowing the answer before he even asks. “Bar fight?”

“You too?”

Scott nods once more, and decides against that when his vision swims and the wound on his head bleeds a little bit more. “Shouldn’t have had those last shots.”

“You gonna puke?”

Scott is just about to shake his head when he remembers that it might not be such a good idea. “Nah, did that on the bastards when they landed their first punch in my gut.” He tells him as he lift up his shirt, the bruise is not so visible yet but in a day or two, it’s going to be a sight to behold.

The man lets out a soft laugh that is equal parts amused and sympathetic, and Scott wants to tell him that he’s got a nice face he might want to kiss. But that could also be the bad mix of alcohol, adrenaline, and head wound talking, so he keeps that detail for himself until the doctors on call can take a look at him.

Instead, he asks for his story in return.

“So, what’d you do to get punched?”

The man tilts his head at him with a faint smile, and Scott absentmindedly wonders about the freckle on the man’s bottom lip, and also how high his pain threshold must be when that might very well be a dislocated shoulder he’s nursing.

“Well, turns out the bar I went in wasn’t the gay bar I thought it was.”

 

 

3\. " ~~accidentally~~ fell in your lap while standing on this crowded bus" au

 

Herc was just about to stand up to offer his seat for the young mother with the stroller when a solid weight landed in his lap. A solid weight that took the shape and form of his grown-ass younger brother.

“Don’t even think about it.” Scott said, settling comfortably in Herc’s lap without a care in the world. Even when no one knew they were brothers, Herc fathomed they looked alike enough. It was not something to be broadcasted like this but that was beside the point.

Scotty never gave two shits for technicalities like this.

“What’s your excuse?”

“Bus braked suddenly?”

In the same way that Scott didn’t need to turn around to see the scowl on Herc’s face, Herc didn’t need Scott to turn his head to know the grin already stretched wide across his brother’s mouth. Turned up in the corners in a way that Herc loved most when he had him on his back, kissing it wider still.

“The bus hasn’t even moved yet.”

“Crowded bus then, Herc. We take up much less room this way.”

“We also attract a lot more attention.” Herc muttered beneath his breath, keeping his eyes on the back of Scott’s head, glaring as he did so. Still, when the bus started without warning, his arms would tighten around Scott’s waist like it was a hindbrain reflex.

 

 

4\. "can u help me sneak my cat into my dorm" au (continuation of 1.)

 

He is walking home from the gym when he sees him again.

The boy from that empty lecture hall that waited around with him until his next class. They aren’t friends, not really, not with the way he smiled at Herc like he could eat him whole. And Herc isn’t even counting the way he looked at him, sitting there in the seat next to him, eyes dragging up and down, his intentions clear.

Except right now, the same boy jumps from where he is clutching to the first floor window sill, looking like he had fully intend to scale the wall of the university dorm before Herc came walking by.

It is dark enough that he can’t see the squirming mass of heat and fur in Scott’s arms until they are barely a meter apart. And when he does—

“Can you help me sneak my cat into my dorm?”

Really, Herc doesn’t know what he expects.

This is how he finds himself smuggling a cat onto the seventh floor of the dorm. Scott walking next to him, talking extra loud to cover the scratches as his cat tries to get out of Herc’s gym bag.

And Herc would just let the cat out of the very literal bag at his door but Scott is pressing him in from behind him. Murmuring that his don has a ridiculously strict attitude when it comes to animals in the dorms, pulling bullshit out of his arse even as he kicks the door close behind him. Stopping only when his cat finally pokes her head out of the bag. Herc has it held up between them, the remaining barrier he still doesn’t know whether he wants to give up too.

“Thank you.”

The cat gives a meowing protest at being trapped between them.

Scott dips his head to his cat, scooping her up as he says. “Shush, Hercules.”

Herc watches him with wide eyes, mouth parting, mind still catching up to the revelation because coincidences like these just don’t—

“I’m fuckin’ with you, her name’s Lucky.” And at the same time, he lets his cat jump from his arms, Scott holds out a student card to him. “Would you believe me if I said you dropped this?”

Herc takes it from his hands, scowling as he does.

“…How about I was trying to cope a feel and grabbed that instead of your arse?”

Herc feels a headache coming on when Scott just laughs at the expression he makes, tugging him from his dorm room door. There’s a promise in the way his mouth says _Hercules_ this time around.

And Herc can’t say he hate it one bit.

 

 

5\. It’s raining and u forgot your umbrella so come over and stand under mine ~~while we wait for the bus~~ " au

 

“I told you.”

“This doesn’t prove anything.”

There’s water slowly seeping through the soft fabric of the dark blue hoodie Scott has pulled on as they left the house, one that looks suspiciously like the one that has been missing from Herc’s own closet for the longest time. (And really, Herc can’t understand Scotty’s moral objections to asking for things. Hell, Scott’s got to know that Herc isn’t about to object to seeing him in _his_ clothes.)

“Whatever you say, Scotty. Now stop being a child, if you get sick, I’m not going to be the one to take care of you.”

“That’s what you say now.”

And Herc knows this too, that when it is Scott running a fever but still shivering under three or four duvets piled on top of him, it is Herc waking him up at intervals to feed him his medication. It is him stripping him out of his sweat-drenched clothes and holding him up in the shower as he cleans him off.

“That doesn’t prove anything either.”

Herc tells him, with just the barest hint of annoyance when Scott finally relents and comes to stand under the umbrella. Because yeah, it is still going to be him standing in the kitchen, making something warm that goes down easy when that’s Scott sick in bed.

“Whatever you say, Herc.”

 

XXX Kuro


End file.
